The phone rang. I took it, and heard Keems' voice. I stopped him before he got started: '1 can't hear you, Johnny. Don't talk so close.'
'What?'
'I said, don't talk so close.'
'Oh. Is this better?'
'Yeah.'
'Well… I'm reporting progress backwards. I found the old lady in good health and took care of her for a couple of hours, and then she got hit by a brown taxi and they took her to the hospital.'
'That's too bad. Hold the wire a minute.' I covered the transmitter and turned to Wolfe. 'Johnny found Mike Walsh and tailed him for two hours, and a dick picked him up and took him to headquarters.'
'Picked up Johnny?'
'No. Walsh.'
Wolfe frowned, and his lips went out and in, and again. He sighed. 'The confounded meddlers. Call him in.'
I told the phone, 'Come on in, and hurry,' and hung up.
Wolfe leaned back with his eyes shut, and I didn't bother him. It was a swell situation for a tantrum, and I didn't feel like a dressing-down. If his observations had been anything at all more than shooting off, this was a bad break and it might lead to almost anything, since if Mike Walsh emptied the bag for Cramer there was no telling what might be thought necessary for protecting the Marquis of Clivers from a sinister plof. I didn't talk, but got out the plant records and pretended to go over them.
At a quarter to one the doorbell rang, and I went and admitted Johnny Keems. I was still acting as hall boy, because you never could tell about Cramer. Johnny, looking like a Princeton boy with his face washed, which was about the only thing I had against him, followed me to the office and dropped into a chair without an invitation. He demanded, 'How did I come through on the code? Not so bad, huh?'
I grunted. 'Perfectly marvelous. You're a wonder. Where did you find Walsh?'
He threw one leg over the other. 'No trouble at all. Over on East Sixty-fourth Street, where he boards. Your instructions were not to approach him until I had a line or in case of emergency, so I found out by judicious inquiry that he was in there and then I stuck around. He came out at a quarter to ten and walked to Second Avenue and turned south. West on Fifty-eighth to Park. South on Park-'
Wolfe put in, 'Skip the itinerary.'
Johnny nodded. 'We were about there anyhow. At Fifty-sixth Street he went into the Hotel Portland.'
'Indeed.'
'Yep. And he stayed there over an hour. He used the phone and then took an elevator, but I stayed in the lobby because the house dick knows me and he saw me and I knew he wouldn't stand for it. I knew Walsh might have got loose because there are two sets of elevators, but all I could do was stick, and at a quarter past eleven he came down and went out. He headed south and turned west on Fifty-fifth, and across Madison he went in at a door where it's boarded up for construction. That's the place you told me to try if I drew a blank at Sixty- fourth Street, the place where he works as a night watchman. I waited outside, thinking I might get stopped if I went in, and hoping he wouldn't use another exit. But he didn't. In less than ten minutes he came out again, but he wasn't alone any more. A snoop had him and was hanging onto him. They walked to Park and took a taxi, and I hopped one of my own and followed to Centre Street. They went in at the big doors, and I found a phone.'
Wolfe, leaning back, shut his eyes. Johnny Keems straightened his neck-tie and looked satisfied with himself. I tossed my notebook to the back of the desk, with his report in it, and tried to think of some brief remark that would describe how I felt. The telephone rang.
I took it. A voice informed me that Inspector Cramer wished to speak to Mr. Goodwin, and I said to put him on and signaled to Wolfe to take his line.
The sturdy inspector spoke. 'Goodwin? Inspector Cramer. How about doing me a favor?'
'Surest thing you know.' I made it hearty. 'I'm flattered.'
'Yeah? It's an easy one. Jump in your wagon and come down to my office.'
I shot a glance at Wolfe, who had his receiver to his ear, but he made no sign. I said, 'Maybe I could, except for one thing. I'm needed here to inspect cards for admission at the door. Like search warrants, for instance. You have no idea how they pile in on us.'
Cramer laughed. 'All right, you can have that one. There'll be no search warrants while you're gone. I need you down here for something. Tell Wolfe you'll be back in an hour.'
'Okay. Coming.'
I hung up and turned to Wolfe. 'Why not? It's better than sitting here crossing my fingers. Fred and Johnny are here, and together they're a fifth as good as me. Maybe he wants me to help him embroider Mike Walsh. I'd be glad to.'
Wolfe nodded. 'I like this. There's something about it I like. I may be wrong. Go, by all means.'
I shook my pants legs down, put the notebook and plant record away in the drawers, and got going. Johnny came to bolt the door behind me.
I hadn't been on the sidewalk for nearly twenty hours, and it smelled good. I filled the chest, waved at Tony with a cart of coal across the street, and opened up my knees on the way to the garage. The roadster
